


To Hold and Kiss You, Gods Be Damned

by dhwty_writes



Series: Geraskier One-Shots [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Secret Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: "I thought you didn't want me," Jaskier said with a voice as cold as ice."I did. I do. I lied," Geralt confessed, still on his knees, fidgeting nervously with his hands. "I can't- I couldn't- I mustn't lose you. I know it's inevitable. But I thought if I lost you because I chose to, it would be easier. It wasn't. It isn't. Please, Jaskier, I know I don't deserve it, but please, let me love you again."Geralt apologizes after the mountain and he and Jaskier get together. Still, they have to keep their relationship secret.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931821
Comments: 22
Kudos: 189





	To Hold and Kiss You, Gods Be Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of spielzeugkaiser's requests: "secret relationship". Blame them for this.

Geralt was in love. He knew he shouldn't be; he knew it was dangerous, he knew there were even some who thought it impossible. A witcher in love. Ridiculous. But it wasn't. But he was.

He had fought tooth and nail to prevent it from happening because after one look at that ridiculous bard he'd known it was inevitable. He had tried everything: gruff words and gut punches in the beginning, then more gruff words, a djinn wish to bind him to another (which had almost cost the bard his life, he'd never do  _ that _ again), more gruff words, shouts, an ugly dismissal. All to no avail.

It was torture being apart from Jaskier, after twenty-two short years of laughter and music, twelve long months of silence followed. Twelve long years of broken-hearted ballads and that was when he knew for sure. When he heard another bard sing and his heart still broke with the ache of it. That was also when he knew that his secret affections were not unrequited. Spring came and he left Ciri with his brothers, and he himself set out again as soon as the snows allowed it.

He rode hard and fast for a different hunt, chasing every trace of his bard he caught. And when he found him in a tavern he fell onto his knees where he sat in a corner, begging him to take him back.

"I thought you didn't want me," Jaskier said with a voice as cold as ice.

"I did. I do. I lied," Geralt confessed, still on his knees, fidgeting nervously with his hands. "I can't- I couldn't- I mustn't lose you. I know it's inevitable. But I thought if I lost you because I chose to, it would be easier. It wasn't. It isn't. Please, Jaskier, I know I don't deserve it, but please, let me love you again."

"Love...?" Jaskier echoed as if he didn't believe it. "You love me?"

"Yes." How could he not?

"Not here," he said decisively and stood. The touch on the witcher's arm was nigh unnoticeable but enough to get him to follow him up to his room. 

The door fell shut behind them and Jaskier turned with tears in his eyes. "Tell me again," he whispered.

"I love you," Geralt answered. "I love you; I love you; I love you." It felt almost like a prayer. "Will you forgive me?"

The bard released a shuddering breath. "Kiss me," he pleaded and Geralt did. It was the easiest thing in the world, with his whole body aching for it. It was like breathing. Like suffocating. Like waking up.

Jaskier pulled away to breath and leaned his head on Geralt's shoulder. "Don't do this to me again," he sobbed and Geralt wished he could cry, too. "Don't do this to us again."

"I won't," he promised. "I won't, never again, I swear it."

"How?" he asked agonisingly.

"Come to Kaer Morhen with me," he murmured and cautiously tightened his arms around his waist. "Let me take you home."

"Alright," Jaskier answered and that was all he needed to hear.

They set out at sunrise on the next day, settling into an almost familiar rhythm. Only that everything was different. They travelled together again, that much went unchanged, and Jaskier sang and talked like always. But he had a horse now, too. Apparently singing of heartbreak was very lucrative. And he wasn't the only one talking anymore. More often than not Geralt actually joined in the conversation, giving his opinion on songs, and rhymes, and untrue lines. There was laughter, too. A lot of laughter. It was heaven on earth.

And in the privacy of their room, in the dark of an empty clearing, he was allowed to touch, too. To touch, and kiss, and show Jaskier exactly how much he loved him. As he could, with his deeds instead of words. He never wanted anything to change.

He knew that it would, though. They had agreed upon it on that very first night when Geralt had apologised: neither Ciri, nor Triss, nor any of the witchers needed to know about them. In fact, it was probably better if they didn't. The likes of them had never been welcome in Cintra nor in Temeria. And while there had been witchers known to bed their brothers or other men, he wasn't quite sure how Eskel and Vesemir would react. Or gods forbid, Lambert. He'd be an arsehole about it, just like about everything else.

It was for the better. They would manage. They had managed for twenty-odd years, after all.

So, when they arrived at Kaer Morhen one month and a half later, there were no grand gestures despite what Geralt wanted. No kisses, no hugs, no carrying his bard over the threshold. No shared bed, no lazy kisses and missed meals; not even a wink or a casual flirtation.

Instead there were two rooms, two beds, only warmed by the pelts within. For Geralt there was love and warmth, a hug from Eskel, a kiss on the cheek from Triss, Vesemir nodded and Lambert insulted him lovingly, and Ciri clung to him for an entire day.

Jaskier was greeted by the old ruin with all the cold and loneliness Kaer Morhen had to offer. It made Geralt's heart shatter to see him glancing warily at the grey walls, to meet the cold stares with defiance where he should be met with laughing eyes. It was almost enough for him to break his promise and tell them. But not quite.

The bard shot him a lifeless smile and bowed before Vesemir to thank him for his hospitality. Then he went to his knees before Ciri and placed his lute at her feet. "I know that I don't have much to offer, princess," he confessed. "But what I have I pledge to you. I hope that you might accept my oath."

The kneeling bard made everyone in the courtyard uncomfortable and Geralt quickly pulled him to his feet again, careful not to let his touch linger.

After that awkward first meeting life quickly settled back into a familiar rhythm. Geralt took his lessons with Ciri up again, filling his spare time with chores. He barely saw Jaskier safe for the evenings when he had offered to perform for the witchers. But he knew from Ciri that he was teaching her, too. History, literature, and languages, and suchlike. It wasn't like they would've wanted it to be, but at least they weren't apart anymore.

And sometimes there were even nights when they could steal away from the others, fleeing to the top of crumbling towers where not even the other witchers would follow. Only to spend a few precious hours in each other’s arms before they had to go back to pretending.

"I'm sorry," Geralt whispered against Jaskier's lips. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I'm sorry this is all I have to offer."

"Shh," he soothed and gently stroked his hair. "Don't be. I chose this, too. It's better than being alone. Better than being apart." He kissed him desperately. "Better to know. Better not to fear-" He choked on the words but Geralt knew what he was saying anyways. 'Better not to lie awake at night, fearing our last goodbye was the last to ever come.' Better than nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you liked it, leave a comment or come send me more prompts on my [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/).  
> EDIT: Please go check out the [art](https://spielzeugkaiser.tumblr.com/post/630155630664155136/to-hold-and-kiss-you-gods-be-damned) [@spielzeugkaiser](https://spielzeugkaiser.tumblr.com/) created based on this fic! (And go bow down before the Monarch of Angst, they're amazing!)


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